


The Look of Lands Changing

by beautifullyheeled



Series: The Halved Compass [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pining Sherlock, Post-Season/Series 03, Sherlock-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3989479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullyheeled/pseuds/beautifullyheeled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He placed his journal back in it's slot. Not much time now, it would seem. At least most of his last thoughts would be of silver shot blond and eyes that rivaled the depths of the world's oceans. The air was stale here, another thing missed. Baker Street. Any other Tuesday night. Full of take-away and stout, a bottle of wine, good company. He could feel John's warmth, just across from him. Their knees almost touching. Laughter and acrid evening smoke between them. The scotch out, a finger each. Just enough to appreciate the slow burn. </p>
<p>He'd been in love. It had burned slow as well, consumed all of him until he was it's vessel. Sizzled along his veins until it encompassed him. Filled his lungs with them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Look of Lands Changing

He placed his journal back in it's slot. Not much time now, it would seem. At least most of his last thoughts would be of silver shot blond and eyes that rivaled the depths of the world's oceans. The air was stale here, another thing missed. Baker Street. Any other Tuesday night. Full of take-away and stout, a bottle of wine, good company. He could feel John's warmth, just across from him. Their knees almost touching. Laughter and acrid evening smoke between them. The scotch out, a finger each. Just enough to appreciate the slow burn. 

He'd been in love. It had burned slow as well, consumed all of him until he was it's vessel. Sizzled along his veins until it encompassed him. Filled his lungs with them. John and he, his bed, the linens full of lavender. John tasted of smoke and honey and forever. The forever he chose to remember. Today, they were seventy. Old. Silver hair graced John with an air of refinement he'd not seen in previous years. Now though, he packed that away. His white curls, the warm afternoon. He'd not visit there again. Now, now was important. So was then. Pressed against the linens, filled with joy. So much. A lifetime.

His lifetime.

So he'd give it. For John. 

The next breath was sweet. Wild rose and exotic spice filled the space. Not as if Irene would come for him, not as if John were around the corner to signal. No, John was with wife and baby. Safe. Secure. He'd made certain. His only provision- keep John Watson safe. He knew now that happiness could not be guaranteed, but when had it ever been possible to do so. Safe would be enough. The noise was closer to his room, as quiet as it was, he knew it well. He was to go by fire then. Inhalation before the worst of it. He could do this. One life for many. Not as if John expected him home. To come round the corner and flick on lights and demand supper. 

No, Baker was cold and dark, save one small light in John's old room. A copy of Ten Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, illustrated, waiting to be found beside a small pirate hat and brass spyglass. His final gifts to the child he'd never know. 

It was enough, this life he'd had. Shared. 

He'd wait until his end, steadfast, to make sure John would always be secure.

His last thought as he felt warmth was of his love. 

The small smile that crossed his face, only for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily influenced by Gem Club. I recommend listening sometime. 
> 
> LANDS  
> where is the chorus in the airwaves   
> i sit with crystals at my side   
> no one can offer up an answer   
> and years are passing by   
> i saw the look of lands changing   
> and i feel you are the one whose moving beneath me   
> are there riders coming through the dark   
> there is no more communication   
> i'm building lovers in our bed   
> i feel no real danger   
> i'm filled with desire   
> the back of my head split wide open   
> and i saw the look of lands changing   
> are there riders coming through the dark


End file.
